


I'm A Preformer

by Strangewhispers



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Betrayal, Bottom Harry, Bullying, Car Accidents, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Fetish, First Kiss, Gangs, Gay Bar, Gun Violence, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Inspired by Music, Italian Mafia, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Mistress, Misunderstandings, One Night Stands, One-Sided Attraction, Poor Harry, References to Drugs, Rimming, Russian Mafia, Sassy Harry Potter, Sexy Harry, Spanking, Sugar Daddy, Top Tom Riddle, Violent Sex, Virgin Harry, Voice Kink, Weight Issues, drug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:49:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29777097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strangewhispers/pseuds/Strangewhispers
Summary: The car crash that ultimately killed his parents has become the catalyst for Harry Potter's life taking the turn it has now.Gay, proud and out, his loving family is replaced with his homophobic aunt and uncle who's abusive behaviour have pushed him, literally, out of their home.With no means to support himself, Harry learns that his passion for dancing may put more then a few notes in his pocket but ultimately comes with the risk that he loses himself in a dark haired mystery.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Dudley Dursley/Original Character(s), Dudley Dursley/Original Male Character(s), Harry Potter/Tom Riddle, Harry Potter/Voldemort, Pansy Parkinson/Original Character(s), Pansy Parkinson/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 71





	1. BALENCIAGA - FILV

**Author's Note:**

> While I don't own Harry Potter or the music that my manic imaginations steam from, I recommend listening to the chapter titles as they helped inspire the work and chapters.

The fluorescent strobe lights flickered over his body. Harry ran his hands sensually down from the arch of his neck to his chest, slowing at his nipples which he covered mock shyly. 

He let his mouth relax slightly, tongue peaking out across his full upper lip invitingly.

After two pulses of the music passed he let his hands continue their journey across his toned stomach and let himself playfully tug on the oppressively tight shorts. He stuck his thumbs under the waistband and nudged them down, exposing the v of his hips further.

He kept a flirty smile on his lips and flickered his eyes invitingly down at himself and back up at his audience from under his lashes. He relished in knowing they were captivated, joking and rowdy conversation officially over as each of them were paying very close attention.

Rolling his shorts down minutely, he felt his thumbs brush against his pubes as the blonde sitting directly across from him held his breath.

Ever the tease, Harry let his thumbs slip free and his shorts slapped against his skin sharply. 

Watching the outraged expressions form from across him, he kept his smile and did what he knew best.

He preformed.

Hips swaying with each little step it took to reaching his target, Harry leant over the wide centre table littered with drinks and crawled forward. Hand reaching for the pole in the middle, he used his one handed grip to support himself into a fluid crouching position. Playfully, his free hand landed fingerlight on his knee and as though his deinty finger ever could- he made himself inch his legs open while letting his eyes wonder across the men seated in the leather booth around him.

"Oh, you filthy minx." The skinhead Harry ran his eyes over last breathed out harshly, adjusting himself in his seat.

"Shut up, Greg. Go on, Sexy, don't mind the brute." The dark skinned bloke wasn't any better since his eyes were focused in-between his legs.

The cute brunette snorted into his drink.

Meanwhile Harry was watching the blonde intently as he reached for his back pocket and he felt himself shudder.

Fuck, money did it for him.

Opening his wallet, he looked at Harry with a smirk and withdrew a healthy stack of fifty's. Knowing he had Harrys full attention, he laid one onto his groin.

Letting his grip of the pole go, Harry reached forward only to be yanked harshly by his hair.

"Use your mouth." He smelled expensive. He would have been Harry's type if it wasn't for his mightier than thou attitude.

Letting his hair slip through his fingers, the blonde leaned back as if to say 'go on, I'm waiting.'

Can't have that now, can we?

Subdued, Harry coyley looked from the grey stormy eyes to the prize and back again. Leaning off the table, he put both hands on either of Blondie's knees and moved his palms up each skinny jean clad leg. He let himself sink face first into his lap.

Harry heard someone whistle and he fought to keep his lip from twitching.

Face so close to his crotch, Harry was sure his target felt his breath through the money and with the idea that he wanted him to certainly feel something, he let himself rub his face against his inner thigh. 

"Give us one of those, _quick_." The dark skinned man snatched the wallet out of the blondes loose grip.

Tongue out suggestively, Harry let it stick to the crisp note and was thankful it was new. Sucking in a breath, he hollowed out his cheeks and raised himself towards the blonde, lifting a brow.

Shamelessly, Blondie ran his knuckles against Harry's hollowed cheeks and plucked the fifty from his lips.

Blondie's stormy eyes drew nearer and while he was stunning against the flickering of lights-

He was also a prick.

Before he could get too close, Harry pushed against Blondie's legs and with the momentum rolled backwards fluidly until his bare feet touched the table and he was towering over them on the pole. His message was clear; Blondie could kiss his ass.

Cutie snorted again, "Guess he doesn't like you much Dray..."

Flushing noticibly from where even Harry could see as he was suspended on the pole, _Dray_ went from stunned to enraged almost immediately.

"Whatever, he's an ugly bitch anyways." Grumbling, he snatched his wallet from his amused friend and stormed out.

Mouth aghast in horror, the skinheaded bloke -Greg- shouted in Harry's direction "Don't listen to that idiot." Then as soon as his eyes averted from his departing friend to Harry, he was obviously captivated by what he saw as his mouth remained open for an entirely different reason.

Floor moves were fun, flirty and an easy way to make some money. Harry, however, loved pole dancing. His flexibility on the floor weaved it's way to his pole moves and that helped him now as he held his legs in a vertical split against the pole.

That evening went by successfully. Especially as it was made apparent that Dray's dark skinned friend had dipped his hand into his wallet earlier and Harry subsequently earned himself an unexpected extra of £450 in tips on top of his earnings.

While the dark skinned man had tapped his ass with the wad of questionably acquired money, he had leant in and his parting words were like so many others.

"See you soon, Sexy."


	2. The Light Behind Your Eyes - MCR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I own nothing but my imagination. Please feel free to listen to the chapter title for the musical inspiration behind the chapter.

The first time Harry realised he wasn't independent was the one time it mattered.

His parents were loving. They loved each other with a passion that made him feel sickly as a child but the older he grew, the more he aspired to find that one only other person who understood him the way both his parents seemed to understand each other. They were always together, metaphors of jigsaw peices be damned. They were perfect. Not perfect people but perfect together. 

Harry knew telling them he was gay was supposed to be frightening but a selfish part of him knew they would accept him. They had.

Surprisingly his only uncle and auntie had too. They were religious as could be, his aunt's thick cross necklace fixed around her neck permanently.

Then one evening, as Harry spoke on the phone to his friends about the essay they had due tomorrow and how he -obviously- hadn't even written a word yet, the telltale flashes of blue and red approached his bedroom window. Instead of passing like they normally would, they seemed to remain bright. As he grew concerned for his neighbours, Harry's stomach dropped at the buzzing of his front door.

He had let his friends stay on hold, thinking it could be a hoax. The Potter's were wealthy and his parents had instilled the importance of being weary of others within him.

But, somehow, as he creaked his way towards the front door Harry instinctively knew. Something was very wrong.

The rest of his evening was spent understanding that yes, you can be an orphan at 17.

He understood true heartbreak now.

Mourning his mum and dad became painful the longer he was living with his aunt and uncle. Almost instantaneously, they showed him who they really were. His cousin had been his childhood playmate and Harry now understood why Dudley found it easier to play rough.

The first time his uncle had put a hand on him it had been a quick slap to the face that shock him more than it had stung. He had overhead Dudley and him talking about his friends, Seamus and Dean. About how they had gotten over their pinning and kissed.

"Don't talk about poofs in this house, boy."

The next morning his breakfast had been buttered toast while everyone else had eggs..

Harry managed to stay at his usual college. Although he wished he hadn't as that week Dean had him slammed up against his locker, shouting in his face.

"How fucking could you!?"

Uncle Vernon had phoned the college complaining Harry was being coerced into immoral activities by a Dean and Seamus in attendence of their educational facility and it be 'properly dealt with.'

Seamus wasn't out. His religious, irish, single mother had them moved back to northern Ireland.

Not even a week had passed for the soil on his mum and dad's graves to settle had Harry found himself ostracized both at home and college.

He kept up with his dancing, rain, sun or snow. Truly, any reason to walk out of his aunt's front door was a good enough reason and Harry loved to dance.

Really loved to dance.

Memories of pirouettes around the kitchen island, musical chairs at every birthday, his mum and him being what his dad would call 'bloody theratrical' as they would attempt to outdo each other. She used to do ballet.

His exertion after every playground venued session would mean a better nights sleep. Because sleep is sleep and what's exhaustion along with a few tears to lul him to his dreams?

Funnily enough, Dudley and his burly looking friends would be at the park and soon their curiousity meant they became his friend as much as they were Dudley's.  
Their encouragement and awe at particularly hard choreography became a fuel beyond the incentive of sleeping soundly.

Weeks before his 18th birthday, nearly 9 months since his mother's grave had begun to bloom the lilies he, Dudley and their friends had planted, Dudley told him he liked girls.

Smiling, he had said "Alright."

Grinning, Dudly emphasised "I mean I _really_ like girls."

Confused but intrigued as to why he had brought it up, Harry responded "Okay."

Kevin who sat cross legged on the earth repeated "Really, _really_ likes girls."

Derek hummed in the background.

Laughing now, Dudley turned to Harry "Yeah." And before Harry could ask what the fuck they were going on for, Dudley blurted "Just as much as I like blokes."

Harry wasn't sure why he had started crying as soon as he crushed his cousin in a hug.

Maybe it was knowing he was loved


	3. Reminder - 2Scratch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, I do not own Harry potter nor the music I share and recommend through the chapter titles. All I have is my imagination.

Unsurprisingly his birthday didn't go the way he thought it would either, not that he expected to celebrate anything in a household where his love was a sin.

Barely having reached the bottom of the landing, his aunt's shrill shreik reached his ears.

"Vernon, I said to get rid of him!" His blood froze. They couldn't do this to him. 

But they had.

He, Harry James Potter, was skirting the edge of homelessness on his 18th year of simply existing.

Once his uncle had thrown him and his belongings out, phone smashing to bits against the pavement and clothes in open bin bags, he made it to the only place he could. Foregoing the swings and plopping himself in the confines of the sandbox, Harry let himself coil into himself and just release.

He had thought the early morning had turned to noon as large shadows enveloped him.

"Fuck, Harry man, don't cry. Kevin's gunna' blubber 'nd all, too- _Ouch_! Fuck, was I lying though!?" 

Laughing through his tears, Harry James Potter had unintentionally found himself a glimmer of hope.

His dancing never stopped. If anything, it became an obsession.

Rather than go to the park, Harry would do his stretches against Derek's -" _Ours_ Harry, for _fuck sake_ , you live 'ere!"- balcony railing while he would grimace and tell Harry he wouldn't be responsible for any accidents. Then as hours would pass, he would come home from his part time job asking Harry if he was insured.

The idea of dancing for money came to Harry easily.

He had two years left of college for his dancing qualification, hopefully leading to something graceful and in semblance to his mums career aspirations. Though his imagination of dancing in the background of music videos or preforming in theaters were squashed as soon as they found out about his age and lack of experience. Most of them said to reapply when he qualified.

If he qualified. 

A few recognised his last name and gave him their condolences. 

One evening Derek, Kevin, Harry and Dudly were around Harry and Derek's with beers and the telly on low as Derek told them about the jobs his boss had available. It was only bar work. At a gay bar. Everyone perked up, Harry included. A flirt and booze? Easy money.

Eventually, Molly Weasley would have Harry's new number.

Working for _The Burrow_ was a real laugh. Derek's schedule for being a doorman interlinked with Harry's bartender position smoothly. While Dudley refused to be put in a position where his parents might find out about his sexuality, or do to him as they did Harry, he would often ask for stories on nights Harry and Derek would simply describe as being _wild_. 

Being as Derek was straight -"1000%. Don't get no funny ideas, mate."- whenever he mentioned being flirted with it was hilarious. Although never quite as funny as how Kevin had quit not even 25 minutes into his first shift after being groped by a drag queen and Harry swore he could barely breath! Even remembering it now brought a smile to his lips.

"Yeah, that's right. Keep smiling like that, Pretty."

Harry let himself ignore his regular and shut his eyes as he suspended from the pole.

His 19th birthday came to be a more joyful event than his 18th.

A year in Molly's employment had served him well. He earned his tips, knew his drinks and enjoyed the company of the staff and patrons. His birthday was a gathering of the patrons and friends and while he wondered how she could possibly afford to, Molly let everyone in attendance, including him and her son's, have a drink on the house.

Most of her sons were old enough to work at the bar though when he had heard how many more children she actually had, he was reminded of how alone he was in comparison.

Charlie organised the themed nights, Fred and George would run rings around Harry behind the bar and train staff and Bill did the accounting and finances. Harry knew Molly's son his age was attending university in Scotland with his girlfriend who she secretly hoped was 'the one'. Her youngest and only daughter was often at home with her husband as he worked from home. Harry never got round to asking what he did.

That night he met Percy.

His name would normally fly around _The Burrow_ in quiet whispers when Molly was near and if she ever heard it then her face would sour.

Turns out Percy worked for a rival bar on the posh side of London's West End. Although the main difference was _The Burrow_ only served drinks. _Hallows_ was a strip club for the entertainment of the elites of British Society, or so Percy had preached that night. Percy had been invitated under the assumption he would keep his negative opinion of his mother's business venture to himself and as he was headlocked by Bill and dragged to the backroom Harry reminded himself of the club's name. 

Later that night, tucked under his covers, face illuminated by his phone screen, he was drawn in like a fly to light.

Sweet, strobbing, fluorescent light.


	4. Numb - Charlie Hanson

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Harry Potter nor the music I recommend in the chapter titles.

Two years later, Harry finished college with his dancing qualification.

That didn't mean he stopped preforming at _Hallows_.

Transitioning from a bartender for Molly into an exotic dancer for the club her son worked at had been an easy move. She, along with most of the people at the bar, knew about his passion and college course. Ultimately, she had known he would be tempted by Percy's words and his first shift back after his birthday hadn't even begun before she held her hand out expectantly.

His resignation had been hand written instead of printed since he and Derek hadn't needed a printer before.

The website made it clear that while they may not have been actively looking for new dancers, talented individuals or those with 'potential' -Harry assumed they meant 'pretty' people- were always welcome to forwad their interest. 

He had hurridly filled in the basics; Name, age, email address and different photographes of what he looked like. He had taken them there and then, never being the type to have pictures of himself on his phone. 

Lastly, a brief summary of any relevant experience was ideal and while dancing at all hours of the day may be what he did, he had no experience earning from it and so he had left it blank.

His application form had been reviewed and replied to within an hour of his submission. The interview was the following Monday. 

Dolores Umbridge was a round mound of flesh that had first appeared alongside Percy during his interview. She stopped his dancing 2 minutes into the mandatory 5 and told him she hadn't needed to see anything else. Wobbling away, she told him he was all Percy's to take care off. Percy took his bank details and put him on a same day introductory course in pole dancing. His first dance was that friday and since then he's grown to be a permanent fixture inside _Hallows_ beautifully expensive walls.

 _Hallows_ catered to clients who were selective. Beautiful men and women worked both the poles and floorspaces competing for the most attention and, more importantly, most of the money.

The policies were beyond fair, they were _motherfucking_ _good_. Tips you earned, you kept. The entrance fee was extortionate and promoted the club's ideals for exclusivity. Harry had once asked Percy out of curiosity and as four figures spilled from his lips, because "Why not?", Harry then promptly learned never to ask for details ever again.

The club certainly didn't need to fish into what their dancers made and Harry was more than grateful for it. Over his two year employment, his sense of loyalty to the club was unmistakable.

A year into Harry's employment Derek became a doorman at _Hallow_. 

Part of him was concerned he would be judged by the few people remaining in his life, but they took the change of his career with ease. In fact, Harry hadn't bothered telling them all that they had each pulled him aside at one point and asked if they could get a cheeky free entrance into the club. 

Not once had Harry met the owner and no on knew who they were. Often rumours circulated that they might be a client or keeping anonymous so they could spy on the staff. Whether it was true or not, Harry took it as incentive to remain on top form.

What made the club further unique were the rules. 

  * Dancers can have drinks with their clients if the client would like, however the bar discreetly dilutes the alcohol content and there's a cap. 
  * Dancers keep their relationships outside of the club walls quiet. 
  * The club does not condone nor promote the idea of prostitution so there's no happy ending in sight. 
  * Licensing for the club means dancers can strip as far as they choose to. 
  * Sleeping with a client is your own business and happens on your own time.
  * Showing up to work with bruising or marks outside those generally associated with what you may get while dancing means you are sent home or pray Umbridge is off sick. She's never off sick. No matter the amount of perfectly applied foundation or concealer, she knows. She just _knows_. 



Abiding by the rules were easy. Harry had kept his viginity and only had his first kiss recently on a night he and Derek had had a drink after work and both sleep deprivation and alcohol had Derek leaning over. It was a gentle press of lips and while it might've been nice, they both withdrew with equally grossed out expressions and laughed it off.

One beer later meant Derek shrugged and admitted he had been curious but otherwise definitely not into Harry. Harry had slapped him on the shoulder and told him it was for the better.

Dudley was still under his parents roof but with a few changes. He had taken up swimming at the local centre and his weight had dropped considerably. With newfound confidence and more time spent away, he began fighting his oppressive home life and not one day went by without an explosive argument. 

More than once, Harry would come home early in the morning when the sun was begining to rise and find that Derek's bedroom door was shut and hearing the faint echo of two voices through their thin walls.

Harry knew Kevin's liberal parents would happily take Dudley in.

He would wonder if maybe there was more to the early morning whispers and Derek's curiosity.


	5. Dance On The Table - CLiQ

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Harry Potter nor my questionable taste in music that I recommend in each chapter title.

Sprawled out on his single bed, Harry had his forearm pressed into his forehead and covering his eyes. The pressure and weight helping to keep a headache at bay.

"Why are you lot not up for this!?" Kevin threw his flyer into the air and sat himself down on the wooden coffee table, blocking the view of the TV and prompting Derek to swear and Dudley to throw a cushion towards him. Kevin caught it and threw it back.

At times like these Harry regretted settling for a bed in a corner of Derek's living room. But apparently beggers can't be choosers and not long after moving in, he bought himself a set of cheap partitioned walls off of his first payslip. The illusion of privacy was laughable as he obviously heard everything and the partitions were only mildly tinted.

"Fucking. Move." Derek growled.

Tsking, Kevin got up and stalked to the first partioned wall surrounding Harry space.

His steps were loud on the old floorboards and before he could say anything Harry sat up and looked him square in the eye through the tinted sheet.

"Don't come in my room." 

Snorting, Kevin slide the partition open. "Fuck off."

"You fuck off."

"Why don't you both fuck off." Came from the sofa. Harry heard Dudley's snicker "Nice." 

Ignoring all manners of human decency, Kevin forced his way onto Harry's creaky bed.

"Don't fucking do that in my house!" Derek yelled.

Grinning at one another, both Harry and Kevin started bouncing on the bed and groaning.

They held in their giggles as Derek stormed off the sofa and grabbed his pack of cigarettes before slamming the door shut.

Dudley flicked through a few different channels for a bit and then followed Derek out the door, though not before fishing through the same bowl Derek had and grabbing a lighter.

As the door shut gently, Kevin's words echoed his thoughts. "God, they make me sick."

He humming his agreement. "Clueless."

"Speaking of-"

"No." Harry shut him down.

"Mate." Oh, he was _good_. Pleading was a skill best reserved for Kevin, his dark brown eyes sucking you in good. "Come on. Please."

"I'm tired." Harry really was, his shift last night was all pole moves and raw effort and left his body aching even as he sat still. 

"Take a bath, have a coffee, maybe light a candle _\- I don't give a fuck what you do._ Just be ready to go out and I swear I'll _owe_ you."

"Just go." Harry shrugged and instantly regretted it.

"Can't go on my own. Who goes out on their own!?" Harry liked when Kevin got wound up.

"You do." He did.

Exasperated, Kevin put his face in his hands. "Mate."

Harry snorted and stopped himself from confirming that yes, Kevin really did enjoy the nightlife on his own because he was a special kind of creature. When they had ever gone out as a group people gravitated to Derek's muscular physique, Harry's unintentional job inspired dancing and now Dudley's lithe form, over Kevin and his, impressive, man bun. Harry felt bad because Kevin wasnt unattractive, far from it. His neat stubbly beard and bun looked rugged and pristine and his eyes were soulful.

The truth of the matter is he was intimidatingly handsome.

But as everyone knows, you tell a friend certain things and they expect that you've said them not because they're true but for a confidence boost and so Harry had stopped letting Kevin deny his opinion.

Sucking in a breath, Harry sighed and watched Kevin's eyes widen and a handsome smile bloom.

"Run me a bath then." 

Bouncing off of his bed, Kevin's parting words were where Harry kept his epsom salt.


	6. Simmer (Ft.Burna Boy) - Mahalia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I so not own Harry Potter or the music I recommend.

"You've got to be shitting me."

Harry's never felt so used in his life and he takes his clothes off for a fucking living for fucks sake.

"It's not what you think." He could just make out Kevin's words under the thrum of music that Harry tried and failed not to associate with his work.

He should be thinking fun not work but did that mean work was fun?

He let that trail of thought go as he was focused on the deep betrayal one of his best friend's had just dealt him.

"I think you're a manipulative cunt who thinks with his dick." Harry sipped at his drink and shuddered as the tequila reached the back of his nose.

A second reason to put Kevin on his shit list.

Grinning, Kevin replied "I'm sure you meant something witty there, mate, but we'll let that one go, yeah?"

Dickhead.

Punching him in the arm just as he was about to drink his cocktail, Kevin narrowly avoided the splash that would have got his jeans and shoes wet. "Not the goods! Mate, I need to be on top form tonight."

Rolling his eyes heavenward in a club may have been blasphemous but highly called for in this moment.

"Where is she?"

Kevin pointed to a group of girls sat behind the VIP barrier and Harry questioned his friendship.

"Which one is she?" Around a large bucket of ice, with a larger bottle of champagne Harry recognised being sold at his club, were three brunettes and a blonde.

"The one with the dark hair!" Insightful.

"Dress?" The blonde was pale and looked paler in her shimmering silver two peice but she wasn't the object of Kevin's affection.

He ruled the one wearing a suit dress out. She was attractive but in a small mousey way that Harry was sure contained an almighty attitude. The most stunning was in a busty emerald sequinned dress. She was slender, tall and imposing and her fringed bob cut could slice his morning bread. Harry guessed Kevin was most likely talking to Mrs. Mini skirt and crop top combo.

Then the strangest thing happened as Harry thought he heard the word _green_ , it was as though her attention was summoned and she smiled brightly at Kevin through the bodies of party goers.

Sipping the dregs of his beer, Kevin _preened_.


	7. Girls Need Love - Summer Walker

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I definitely do not own Harry Potter or the music that I recommend in each song title.

Honestly, Harry was upset with himself for not recognising Kevin's ulterior motives for his insistence that he come along.

Entrance into the club had been quick, a doorman scanning both their admittance codes from Kevin's phone and letting them in ahead of a queue of disgruntled people.

Turns out Pansy -Harry was tempted to make jokes but some jokes you kept to yourself if you still wanted friends- was as much of a partygoer as Kevin. Though they hadn't met at a club. Nope. They had met online.

"You're _joking_." Harry laughed in earnest. " _Her!?_ " He kept his hands to himself because if he started pointing, she would definitely notice his gesture.

"Yeah." _God_ , Kevin was whipped and they had apparently only spoken on the phone.

Harry's grin faltered slightly as he gulped down more of his drink.

If Pansy was anything like the cocktails Kevin liked, then Harry wasn't sure how he felt.

She hadn't called them over or made it known to her friends that she spotted Kevin. Harry could guess that this was definitely some kind of 'dirty little secret' arrangement between the two of them.

"Is this the first time you've seen her?" 

"No, well, outside of videos?" 

Rolling his eyes, Harry didn't need to know what kind of _videos_ Kevin was on about. Not since it was clear from the faraway look in his eyes and lopsided grin on his lips.

"You're a dog." Raising his glass to his lips, Harry commited to downing it.

" _Woof_."

Groaning, Harry put his empty glass down and pushed it away like it had personally offended him.

"Ungrateful, ain't you?" Chuckled Kevin.

"You know I hate tequila." Harry was more of a vodka or rum person. Piña coladas were for all hours of the day, no one could tell him otherwise. 

Though they could threaten to throw his blender off of the balcony. Derek's 'beauty sleep' was no joke.

"You get what you're given."

"Then yeah, I'm ungrateful. What you going to do about it?"

"No offence, mate, but I rather hear _her_ say something like that over _you_ any day." Kevin laughed aloud at Harry's affronted expression.

"Well fuck off then." Harry nudged him one handedly towards the throng of people separating the two.

Expression conflicted, Kevin asked "You not coming?"

Harry was about to ask if that's what Kevin wanted when he saw the funniest thing tonight; The girls were joined by a few more people and through the beaming blue lights washing over their bodies, Harry saw a cute brunette and bloke who's platinum hair shun brighter than the silver two peice of his female counterpart. Even from afar, Harry knew he had stormy eyes.

Fingers waved over his eyes. "Earth to Potter, Potter, do you receive?" 

Kevin's confused expression turned to visible deflation as he turned to see the girls stand and gather their purses. 

" _Oh_."

No, Harry wasn't having that. Confidentiality be damned. Grabbing Kevin, he made sure he was heard over the music.

" _I recognise them_."

Harry saw the proverbial lightbulb go off and with a laughable parting salute of his hand, Kevin strode in Pansy's direction with purpose.

Holding his breath, Harry let out an amused snort as Pansy spotted Kevin straight away -Almost as if she had been watching him from the corners of her eyes- and her beaming smile gave her away.

She was as whipped as Kevin.


End file.
